


You better have a license, because you're driving me crazy

by shrift



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-05
Updated: 2011-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 19:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrift/pseuds/shrift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only the people who thought Steve was the nice one knew what Danny knew, and what Danny knew was that Steve never met a grenade he didn't like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You better have a license, because you're driving me crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Comment fic for Celli.

Danny did not start out having a bad day. It was important to note that.

He'd talked on the phone with his little girl before she went to school, and that was always a plus. He'd eaten malasadas in the parking lot with Chin so they could avoid Steve's 'I'm concerned about your personal nutrition' face, and sharing them with Kono, because Kono had some kind of supercharged metabolism that could make Danny weep for the days of yore when things he ate didn't stick to his middle.

Danny was barely started on his second cup of coffee when Steve decided it would be a good time to run down a lead or five. That's when all the potential good in his day disappeared down the drain like the pink Foofa clip-on Grace had flushed when she was six and had decided she was too old for _Yo Gabba Gabba_.

"What about your promise to Grace?" Steve asked when they were getting out of the car to talk to their first witness.

"I do not know what you are talking about," Danny said with as much patience as he could muster.

"The one where you promised your daughter that you would eat better." Steve flicked Danny's tie. Danny looked down to see a smear of granulated sugar on his tie. Steve flicked it again, and then licked specks of sugar from his index finger.

"Last time I checked, you were neither my daughter nor my personal physician, Steven," Danny said. "That is code for 'fuck off', in case you were wondering."

Steve bumped Danny's chest with his fist. "I'm just saying --"

Danny held up his hands. "Don't. Do not."

"Are you two here to see the apartment?" a little old lady asked as she opened the front door.

Steve's smile was enormous, like he knew Danny was dying a little inside.

"No, we are not," Danny said.

"Hello, ma'am," Steve said, suddenly oozing polite and respectful, probably because it always made Danny seem like the kind of guy who kicked puppies for fun in comparison to his attractive Navy SEALness. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, and this is my partner, Detective Danny Williams. May we ask you some questions?"

If only the people who thought Steve was the nice one knew what Danny knew, and what Danny knew was that Steve never met a grenade he didn't like.

First witness wasn't much help. Second was even less so. When the third did not appear to be able to identify his own ass with two hands, a paper bag, a handy mirror, and a lifeline call to the person who knew his ass the best, Danny put his foot down and demanded lunch.

"How 'bout this," Steve said. "I'll talk to the valet while you grab us some sandwiches."

"Finally, some multitasking I can get behind," Danny said, rubbing his hands. When he got back with the food, Steve was still talking to the valet

"Heads up, babe," Danny said, launching a wrapped sandwich at Steve's head.

Steve snatched it out of the air and said thanks over his shoulder like the smooth dog that Danny would never admit he was. The valet, who was cute if you liked that sort of thing, leaned around Steve and gave Danny an eyebrow, then quickly gave Steve an enlightened once-over. Steve was not as clueless as he liked to pretend, and looked at Danny with a very self-satisfied expression on his face. The temptation to punch him in the neck was nigh overwhelming.

Danny rolled his head back and stared at the stunningly blue sky. Apparently, and this was just Danny's unofficial count of random strangers bringing it up -- not including Kono's many variations of "Get a room!" which was wickedly clever because it never failed to make Danny and Steve stop an argument cold -- many, many people thought Danny and Steve were involved in a relationship of the intimate persuasion.

"Fine. Fine!" Danny yelled abruptly, possibly at God, possibly at fate, because even he knew when to bow to the inevitable. Danny shoved his sandwich into Steve's free hand, then grabbed Steve by the face and planted one on him. It was an impulsive gesture, and he wasn't really intending for it to go anywhere, but Steve opened up immediately, he opened up so slick and hot, making a quietly desperate noise around Danny's tongue. The sound bypassed his brain and went straight to his dick. They kissed and kissed until the sandwiches were on the ground and Steve's hands were on Danny's ass, dragging him close. Danny said, "Mm," and Steve grunted, his eyes focused and intent and hungry.

The valet cleared his throat.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Danny said.

Steve took a step back, looking like a big cat that had fallen over and was trying to act like he totally meant to do that.

"Are we done here? Are we good? Because you owe me lunch, and the food I so helpfully purchased not five minutes ago has definitely violated the five-second rule."

Steve wrinkled his nose. "The sandwiches are wrapped. They're fine."

"On the _ground_ , Steven. Who knows what disgusting things are now on that wrapper. Fecal matter. Diseases. Urine. Discarded chewing gum. I don't even want to ponder what else. You're buying me something new."

"Danny --" Steve sighed.

"Make it a salad, fuck if I care," Danny said.

"Oh, I'll get you a fucking salad," Steve said, stepping close again.

Ruthlessly suppressing a smile, Danny said, "You disgust me."

"You love it," Steve said, and Danny didn't argue, because he really, really did.


End file.
